Project Shakespeare
by Merry Faerie
Summary: High school student Zane sets out to woo classmate Ami in an unconventional way--by romancing her with Shakespeare. Ami, of course, freaks. And falls. Eventually. Ami/Zoisite, with some Kunzite/Mina, Jed/Rei, and hints of others along the way. AU
1. Prologue, Part I

_Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; _  
_Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes _

Romeo_, Romeo and Juliet_

_

* * *

_

It's hard to say exactly when I realized that I wasn't the only occupant of the front row of Professor Yamagi's English classroom. Oh sure, I'd noticed the guy next to me who had this tendency of stretching his chewing gum in and out of his mouth—then sticking it underneath his desk. Needless to say, he'd been permanently assigned to the front row on the first day of class.

And I did once in a while acknowledge the existence of the girl sitting on my right side because she stared at me an awful lot—to the point that it got a little stalker-ish. But that's a tale for another story.

Anyway, well into our reading of _Pride and Prejudice _something happened. Well, yes, Elizabeth Bennet did turn down poor, poor deserving Darcy, but something else happened, too. Gum Boy saw the light (and his abysmal grades) and dropped out of English Lit. This left his desk empty so that, for once, I could clearly see the profile of the student who had sat beside him.

And my world turned upside down.

What followed would involve elaborate conspiracies, manly tights, something like love…and a whole lot of Shakespeare.

~~~~(~~~((

Miyoki Kuro's silvery green eyes uneasily swung to his left-hand side. The only other passenger of his black Nissan was slumped moodily into the dark vinyl seat. Zane was silent this morning, his only movement being that of his nimble fingers toying with the strap of his school bag. Though many a morning ride had ended with Kuro praying Zane would develop a permanent case of bronchitis, the older man was strangely unnerved by the quiet. Weekday mornings should never be this...dull.

Kuro leaned forward and hesitantly touched the pad of his finger to the radio's power button. A grimace graced his face at the sound of the mind-numbing "J-pop" breezing from the speakers. At least this would wake the normally chirpy blonde out of his stupor, he comforted himself.

Wait for it…

Zane just sighed.

The gleaming, burnt red high school loomed into view, and Kuro was still no closer to discovering the reason for this moody behavior. The boy was obviously sick. Deathly ill, maybe. If the sound of this bubble-gum music still had not conjured up girly wails or orders to "Shut it off for the love of Guy Fawkes!", something was certainly wrong. Kuro wondered just how strange it would be if he leaned over and checked Zane's temperature. No, not even Zane's uncharacteristic glumness was not a good enough reason for him to endanger his own, hard-earned stony masculinity.

Still, the minutes—actually seconds—were ticking down and Kuro had to be at work in the next fifteen minutes. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Okay, Zane, what's wrong?" he asked in English. All right, he'd said it. His masculinity could not be in danger, right? He wondered if he'd displayed too much concern.

The seventeen-year-old tucked his classic European sunglasses into his bag and drew a hand through his coppery gold hair.

"Kuro, what do you know about getting a girl to fall for you?"

_Always the direct one_, Kuro mused. "I'm not really the best to ask about this kind of thing, Zane," was the automatic answer.

Zane's nod of unquestioning assent irked Kuro for some reason. "I know. But Nobu's a mocking bastard whenever I have girl issues and Jed's a mocking _and_ perverted bastard so…"

"I was your only option."

"Exactly."

Kuro nodded to himself. "Who is she?"

"You don't know her. Or, actually…I think she's a friend of that girl Nobu's been seeing. Makoto?"

The man nodded. "Go on."

Zane clenched his fingers round the strap of his backpack in frustration. "She's just…she's perfect, you know? Her name's Ami and she's a genius in studies, she's nice and…oh my God."

"Hm?"

"That's her!" Zane hissed. He snaked and wriggled down lower in his seat so that he couldn't be seen.

Kuro's mouth twitched at the teenager's antics. "Which one?"

Zane's voice was muffled by the horn honks and the blazer he'd covered his head with to disguise himself. "The muffle muffle one muffle blue!"

"You're kidding, right?" Kuro deadpanned, as he stared into the sea of uniformed students, all clad in navy blue blazers.

"No, no, I mean the one with the short, blue-ish hair!" By this time, Zane's knees had knocked against the floor, and he looked to be in fervent prayer.

The less vague description considerably narrowed down the options. Kuro instantly picked out the girl in question. Her hair wasn't blue, exactly, but in the sunlight, the night-black hair gleamed blue. Unfortunately, his view was limited to her becomingly short hair and the back of her pale neck.

"Ah."

"Ah? That's…_it_?" Zane demanded. "Don't you mean to say that she's adorable, stunning, untouchable, ravishing, gor—"

"I can only see the back of her head."

"But isn't it—"

"Yes, the most ravishing back-of-a-head I've ever seen. Clearly, you don't need any advice since you can just bombard her with adjectives until she agrees to go out with you just to shut you—"

"Shut up."

"I thought you wanted my pearls of wisdom," Kuro said innocently.

"I'll see you later." Zane muttered something that sounded very similar to "mocking bastards" as he opened the car door.

"Four'o'clock?"

"Sure. Thanks for the advice."

Kuro was starting to feel guilty. "Hey, maybe you should talk to Jed."

"And have him cackle at me?"

Kuro shrugged. "Cackle he may, but he _could_ know more about this girl than you do, social butterfly that he is. Maybe he'd even agree to help you get her to...fall for you.'"

The blonde's eyes lit up. "Genius. I love you."

"Save it for the girl."

Zane blew him a kiss as he walked through the obsidian school gates. Kuro rolled his eyes, but felt oddly pleased that Zane was back to his old self.

~~~~(~~~((

"You really should give up this drama queen act."

"…"

Jed boy raised the eyebrows that hung over wicked blue eyes, concerned by the absence of a reply that went along the lines of "Are you calling me a queen?" He watched Zane concernedly, then returned to devouring of his lunch.

"Mmff, so what were you babbling about in Phys Ed class?" Jed enquired, his mouth full of rice.

Zane clacked a pair of chopsticks against his bowl of untouched food, his back leaning comfortably against an aged tree. English Lit followed their lunch period, and he still was at a loss. He'd had Physics with Ami the period before, but that class was enormous and not the most ideal place for an intimate conversation. But God, she'd definitely _looked_ great, and when she passed him on her way out, had smelled like fresh orange blossoms and honey.

Jed, instead of being put off by his friend's dreamy silence took to entertaining himself. "Well Jed," Jed said to himself airily, "I actually was just talking to myself like I always do when I feel like the world is an empty, empty place and am feeling really out of sorts. But that doesn't mean I'm insane, does it?"

"I need help," Zane interrupted with a sigh.

"Shoot."

"It's about Ami."

Jed immediately perked his ears up. "She's friends with that Shinto priestess, right? The hot one?"

"What? Yeah, okay, whatever." Zane released an annoyed grunt as Jed's focus swayed to another spot on the lawn. "Will you _please_ stop winking at those girls and give me a second of your attention?"

The other boy straightened up, trying to plaster on a serious face. "Okay, okay. As you were saying?" he invited in his British accent, one similar to Zane's.

"I don't know what to do about this whole Ami thing."

"You like her?"

"Yeah."

"You find her attractive?"

"Very."

"You're sure she doesn't have some sort of terminal disease that would cause you to have nothing more than a short-lived romance and then be doomed to mourning forever?"

"…I'll have to check on that," Zane said, a nervous expression crossing his face.

"Do, because if she does, we should make it into a movie. And call it _A Love Story_. Yeah…Anyway, I have the perfect solution. It's genius, actually."

"Yes?" Zane urged eagerly.

"Now, it might sound a little crazy but…maybe you should…possibly…ask her out."

Zane stared at Jed. "That's the most idiotic idea I've heard."

"What? Why?"

"Because," Zane tapped his chopsticks even more furiously, "I don't know if she's even into guys," he admitted.

"You mean she's...into girls?" Jed breathed, intrigued.

"NO!" Zane answered with a slight jump and harassed expression. "At least…God, I hope not." Jed signaled for his friend to continue. "It's just that she's so dedicated to studying, and I don't know anyone who's dated her and I haven't even heard rumors about her fancying anyone and she never daydreams or stares at anyone in class…"

"You need help."

"Exactly," Zane agreed affably. "Your help."

Jed scratched his head, feeling baffled. "I'm still not understanding what you want me to do."

"Find out everything you can about her."

"Wait, what? Like spy on her?"

"No...yes."

Jed shook his head, disappointed. Surely Zane had had enough experience with girls to know that the best way to learn about them (and not be creepy) was to _talk_ to them.

He told him so.

"Of course I want to talk to her. But I'm not going to resort to tying her to a chair and interrogating her about her love life."

"I don't know, that's always worked for me."

Pause. "I hope you're kidding. Anyway, I just want you to find out about her romantic history. And what it is that she finds romantic, you know?"

A glint came into Jed's eyes. "Could that include getting information from her hot, Shinto priestess friend?"

Zane shrugged helplessly. If you couldn't beat 'em… "Sure."

His childhood friend punched the air triumphantly. "Done and done. You might even want to ask Nobu for his help."

"No."

"Why not?"

"He'll just poke fun at me."

"Yeah, but _I'm_ both mocking _and _perverted. If you could deal with that…"

"I dunno…" Zane responded skeptically.

"Well, Makoto _is_ pretty good friends with this Ami girl, isn't she?"

Zane was struck by his friend's sudden intelligent suggestion. "That's true. Alright, I'll do it. That was actually a good idea, Jed."

"Don't act so surprised," Jed sniffed.

His green-eyed friend looked at his watch. "Oops, time for my English Lit class. See you later and thanks!" He packed away his untouched package of food and sprinted off before Jed could feel too insulted.

~~~~(~~~((

When Zane entered the classroom his gaze immediately focused in on the petite girl seated in the front row. Her head was intently bent over her pristine copy of _Romeo and Juliet, _highlighter carefully sliding across the page. Zane grinned to himself. He and the other students were still dragging their feet into _Twelfth Night, _being that _Romeo and Juliet _was two plays ahead in the syllabus.

Without thinking too much about it and the possibility of embarrassing himself, he slid into the desk next to Ami's.

"Hi."

She looked up at him with her lilting blue eyes and his breath caught for a second. "Zane...um, hi," she said after a few moments, clearly in complete control of her own breathing. Bitterly, Zane came to the conclusion that she only vaguely knew him as the boy who sat in the same row as her. But for now, that was enough, since he was close enough to smell her scent again and look at her sugar pink lips and think of how they reminded him of a rosebud. He wondered if they tasted the way roses smelt…was that thought poetic or just weird?

"…would you, Mr. Ewer?"

"Huh?" Zane spouted intelligently, broken out of his thoughts. Three epiphanies hit him at once. One: Stalker Girl was staring openly at him even though he was one desk farther away than usual. Two: Mr. Yamagi was staring stonily at him, awaiting a response to the unheard question. And three: _He_ had been staring dreamily at Ami, causing her cheeks to color.

"I _asked _you if you would be so kind as to begin reading Sebastian's part. But since you are otherwise occupied—"

"No, no, no, I'd be happy to read it, Mr. Yamagi," Zane countered, rushing to pull his reading glasses and script out of his bag. Geeky as he knew it was (and had constantly been reminded of by Jed and Nobu), Zane adored reading Shakespeare. And if he adored reading Shakespeare he was absolutely passionate about acting out Shakespeare. He had, in fact, starred in a couple of Shakesperean plays in the past. Now was the time for him to shine (and show off in front of Ami). Except…

"Damnit!" he whispered to himself. He still couldn't find the script.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ewer?" Mr. Yamagi asked sternly.

"Umm—"

An open copy of _Twelfth Night_n magically appeared in front of him, held in the clasp of a small, petal-white hand. "Here. Scene 3," came the blessed, quiet voice.

Zane shot Ami a grateful look, reveling in her quiet smile. He then began to read in an engaging, confident voice, one that immediately captivated the attention of every person in the room.

"I would not by my will have troubled you;

But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,

I will no further chide you."


	2. Prologue, Part II

Prologue, Part II

* * *

For the remainder of their English class, Zane tried his best to participate in the reading and discussion of _Twelfth Night_. It wasn't that he disliked the material; on the contrary, English Lit was Zane's favorite subject, a partiality culled by years of living and reading with his own English professor father. Before the two of them had moved back to Japan a few years before, Shakespeare, Milton, Dickens, Hardy, all had been as integral a part of Zane's upbringing as the ABC's.

It was difficult, though, for Zane to remember any of that with Ami's desk wedged up next to his, her dark head bent nearby, over the script they shared. He'd never been so close to her, he realized. From his position, he could make out that she had a small beauty mark where her cropped hair met her pale white neck. Again, the scent of her orange blossom shampoo floated towards him and he was hard put to keep himself from leaning closer.

Ami was oblivious to all this. Mr. Yamagi, however, was not. With crossed arms, he scanned the room as the students silently read the rest of the page he'd indicated for them. But young Zane, he noted, was more immersed in Miss Mizuno than in Shakespeare today. In fact, if he didn't move out of her comfort zone she would end up…

"Ow!" Ami yelped as the back of her head hit Zane's. He'd been so close that when she'd snapped her head up from reading, their heads had collided.

Fortunately for the gawping, stammering Zane, the bell sounded just then, and all he could do was apologize to the bemused Ami—and groan, smacking his already tender forehead against his desk once she was out of sight.

After the last bell of the day had pealed, Zane strode out the main entrance of school and headed over to Kuro's black Nissan–only to discover that Jed was following him.

"What are you doing?" Zane demanded over his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks; Jed nearly crashed into him.

The guilty party frowned for a moment, before holding up a finger to show he'd hit upon an answer. "Practicing."

"Huh?"

In an exaggeratedly patient voice, Jed decided to spell it out for him. "P-R-A-"

"_What_ are you practicing for?"

"Stalking your girlfriend."

A bespectacled schoolgirl, who was passing at that moment, threw them a frightened look and clutched her books tightly to her person.

"Trust me, Jed—you don't need to practice." With that Zane, turned back on his heel, whistling as he ambled towards Kuro's awaiting car.

The other blonde teenager narrowed a pair of dark blue eyes in Zane's direction.

"Why are you still standing there?" Zane asked without turning around.

Annoyed, Jed snapped, "Fine, Operation Stalk Zane's Obsession is on, but I don't see why _I_ have to do all the work." He flew to the car and opened the back door. "I refuse to go if Nobu isn't."

The tall, brown-eyed man's response was understandable. "Huh?" Kuro too looked enquiringly at the two blonde teenagers. "Is this something to do with that Ami girl again?" Kuro posed.

A light of realization flooded Nobu's face. "Mizuno Ami?"

This awakened an alert look out of Zane. "Yes. You…know her?"

"Blue-eyes, blue-black hair, an awesome swimmer?"

Zane's jaw dropped.

Nobu blinked back at him. "Well she is Mako-chan's friend…"

"Quick, are you meeting with Makoto anytime soon? Tonight? This afternoon? In the next few minutes?"

Gaping a little, Nobu replied, "Um, Kuro's dropping me off to meet her just to get ice cream and…yeah, just for ice cream."

Jed waggled his eyebrows at Nobu ("Just ice cream, eh?") who was blushing now. Zane blatantly ignored this, though. "You have to ask her all about Ami. Especially about her past boyfriends, boys in general, and what she finds romantic."

Nobu looked a tad bit frightened now, especially by the fanatical gleam in Zane's eye. "Do you like her or something?"

Jed piped up: "I think the better word here is 'infatuated.' Or 'clinically insane.' You choose."

Zane promptly punched Jed's shoulder before jumping into the car. "I'll outline your instructions very thoroughly. I'll even write them down on these handy note cards I have here."

Jed shook his head as a reply to Nobu's wide-eyed look. "He's not joking." He pulled a stack of such color-coded cards from his pocket, all covered with Zane's writing. "Meet you guys at the arcade later? You better order me ten burgers." He then proceeded to step back as the car pulled away from the curb and wave, cheerfully blocking out the sound of Zane's panicked, last-minute instructions.

By this time, most of the school population had filtered out onto the school's grounds. Jed scanned the manicured lawn, not looking for Ami so much as her long-haired friend.

Luckily, he pinpointed both, accompanied by a third girl, a blonde with a deep red bow set in her hair. He knew her by name as Aino Minako; she was in a few of his classes. But instead of joining them, he decided to start out by keeping out of sight and eavesdropping. He drew closer and situated himself behind a conveniently placed bush.

"That test just about killed me," Minako proclaimed, plopping herself onto the ground along with her friends. "I don't understand why Mr. Suhaki is so determined to fail half the class."

"Because it makes Ami and me look that much better," her priestess friend said slyly.

Minako stuck her tongue out at the other girl. "Whatever, Rei. I'm totally beating you in English Composition." Jed smirked. And he was beating both of them.

"Your first language is English!"

"Still beating you."

Ami had fished a small book out of her book bag by now. Minako immediately objected. "Ami, don't tell me that that book is more interesting than we are!"

Ami looked up and smiled, thoughtful for a second. "Oh, alright…I won't."

Minako looked stricken, then threw her water bottle at the other girl. "Meanie!" Rei was laughing by this time.

"What _are_ you reading, Ami?" Rei asked curiously. "Trashy romance?"

"It's _Romeo and Juliet_. Shakespeare," she elaborated.

"_Bo_-ring," Rei enunciated.

Ami lifted her shoulders elegantly. "I know lots of people are put off by his writing, but I love it. When my father lived with us, he would ask me to read his plays to him as he painted."

The girls' expressions softened as they watched the emotion painting Ami's face. They knew her father was a sensitive subject. Meanwhile, Jed was mentally noting the comment.

Minako hurried to insert humor back into the conversation. "So, it's your version of a trashy romance, huh Ami? I mean, Shakespeare's fairly dirty, isn't he?"

Ami blushed. "There _is_ innuendo, I suppose. But the poetic verse distracts one from that."

Rei's head fell back melodramatically, exposing the creamy hollow of her neck. Jed's eyes transfixed themselves on her, and her alone. "Does it make you pine for a Romeo of your own, Ami?"

The other girl hid another smile. "The Romeos of the world are long gone, Rei-chan. As are the Lysanders, the Orlandos, maybe even the Othellos…though I'm not sure that's a bad thing. "

Rei agreed. "The Shakespearean heroes are no more, ay Ami? Men are laughable, really." She bit her lip thoughtfully, causing Jed's forehead to pucker.

Minako seemed considerably depressed by the path of this conversation. "You guys are so pessimistic. The course of true love never did go in a straight line, after all. And it never has. I bet one day you two will lick your words."

Ami's brow furrowed at the misquotations, but she let them slide. "I doubt it, Mina-chan. I'll see you guys later—my mother's here."

"Bye, Ami!" the two chimed.

Instead of leaving his cozy hiding spot, Jed rooted himself where he was. He'd done enough spying for Zane and stowed away what he'd heard about Ami—may as well do something for himself, he reasoned, as he tried to catch what Rei was saying now.

* * *

"Mmm," Kino Makoto sighed, between licks of her pistachio ice cream. Her college boyfriend bent to snag a taste. Not from the cone, but from her lips. They remained that way, Makoto's legs swinging from the picnic table, Nobu bending over her, hands secured to her waist for a long while.

"Mako-chan?" he whispered into her ear.

"Hmm?"

"Could I ask you about your friend Ami?"

Makoto's eyebrows flew up, the heat of the moment effectively doused. "Don't move too quickly there, Tiger."

Nobu grinned sheepishly. "Not like that, of course. I have a friend who's…curious."

"I see." She nodded in understanding. "Blonde hair, green eyes, sexy British accent?"

Nobu's hand flew to his heart. "I beg your pardon? _Now_ who's toying with whom?"

Makoto's lips curved up merrily. "Oh, Nobu-chan don't be so jealous. You'd have the whole package if—"

"Oho, trust me," he interjected huskily, "I have the whole package."

Blushing fiercely, Makoto finished, "You would have everything if you had that accent."

"I see how it is." Nobu feigned hurt and moved back, but Makoto was quick to grasp the collar of his shirt and pull him back so violently that he nearly fell on top of her. He took the opportunity to crash his lips to hers once more. When she pulled away, reluctantly, he remained where he was, a smile playing about his face. "I love pistachios."

"Do you now?"

"The pistachio," he said druggedly, "is my favorite nut."

"And you're mine," Makoto returned sweetly, before realizing that their activities had propelled her cone to its fate: a head-on collision with the ground. "Damn," they said in unison. "Well anyway," Makoto continued, "what does your friend need to know about Ami?" She began ticking adjectives off with her fingers. "She's smart, sweet, pretty, talented, has a sly sense of humor, and if he breaks her heart I'll break him." All this said in a calm, pleasant voice.

"Woah there, he doesn't even have her heart yet. That's where you come in."

"Oh?"

"I need to know about her romantic history."

"What?"

"It's research, Mako-chan, I promise. Plus, Zane's afraid she's not too into boys. Indulge me."

Makoto tapped a finger to her chin as Nobu ruefully licked what ice cream he could from his fingers. "Well, Ami is a romantic at heart. Kind of. She won't admit it, though. And she doesn't date much. Her only real boyfriend was this guy named Greg…"

* * *

"A breakthrough with Ami?" Kuro echoed dubiously as he leaned back and met Zane's eager expression from across the table. They were at a pristine, but loud, arcade the group had begun frequenting ever since Kuro and the manager had become buddy-buddy over marketing homework.

"Yes! Well…I mean…she _specially _asked me to read along with her today."

A raised eyebrow.

"…It may have been because I'd forgotten my script," Zane admitted.

"Well," Kuro tried, looking on the bright side, "at least we know she's not scared of you yet, right?"

Pause.

"What did you do?"

Haltingly, Zane recounted the head bashing from earlier. "_Zane…_"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, but she just…she smells really good."

Kuro could find no words. He only shook his head. "I never realized it until today, but you need some lessons on how to interact with girls."

"And you think you can teach me?" Zane scoffed. "I'll have you know, I'm pretty popular with the girls at our school. How many dates have _you_ been on in the past year?"

"How many of your limbs have I broken in the past year?" Kuro asked innocently. "You want to keep _that_ number low, right?"

Before Zane could squeal like a little girl, he was saved by Jed walking in and up to the booth they occupied. He tenderly sat himself down next to Kuro.

"You owe me big, Zane. The school plants _way_ too many stickers behind its stalker bushes. I think it's some administrative project or something."

Zane rubbed a temple. "Yes, I owe you, thank you."

"No, seriously, you owe me. You made me take the bus instead of getting a ride from Koru. You owe me a few yen."

"Oh, right; here. Now, tell me all. And hand over your note cards. You did take notes, right?" he asked suspiciously.

"Hundreds."

"Quit your lying." Zane browsed through the empty cards as Jed recounted what he'd heard. The green-eyed boy mulled over it all for a few minutes, during which time Jed stole half his French fries—which didn't matter, since he'd barely looked at them anyway.

"I have it!" Zane expostulated, raising his pencil in triumph. Kuro raised an eyebrow of acknowledgement.

"The key is Shakespeare!"

Silence.

"What?" Zane asked. "Don't you see?"

Jed nodded wisely. "Yes I do. I see a guy who needs a life. _And_ the guts to ask a girl out instead of conspiring like an assassin."

Zane ignored him and addressed an amused Koru, waving his pencil in time. "Okay, Ami's in my Literature class and I know she's studious anyway, but she seems really into Shakespeare."

"I already told you th—"

"She also said that thing about Shakesperean heroes being dead."

Jed muttered, "Well, Shakespeare did have the tendency to kill off pretty much all his characters…sick bastard."

"So, what if I revive them for her? What if I become _the_ Shakesperean hero?"

Kuro looked up at the ceiling for guidance. Jed erupted into cackles. When he could finally breathe, he said: "I think you took her way too literally. What are you going to do, come to school with a sword and no pants on?"

Zane looked mutinous. "I might."

Jed choked on the French fries he'd been about to swallow. Kuro helpfully whacked him on the back, apparently deaf to the boy's yelps of pain. He looked back up at Zane. "I'm not sure I'm understanding what you propose to do."

"Just what I said. I'll _be_ that Shakespeare hero she wants. I'm a great actor, after all."

Kuro's mouth twisted uncertainly. "I don't know, Zane. I'm no expert on romance—"

"Got that right," Jed said.

Kuro mouth twitched into a snarl. He was feeling ready to punch the next person who dared imply that he couldn't get any. He continued, though: "But I'm not sure it's just a question of acting. It would be great if you convinced her that you were completely genuine but…would you be?"

"What do you mean?" Zane spluttered. "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I'm gloomy nowadays, and all I can think about is Ami!"

"I know but…you don't know her too well, yet. You don't want to, well…"

"Freak her the fuck out," Jed supplied helpfully.

"…scare her off," Kuro finished more tamely, with a roll of the eyes. "More than you already have," he amended.

Zane thought about this. "It'll be a process." He nodded to himself. "But it'll work. Say, can you guys come to my house tomorrow? So we can work this out?"

Kuro paused, then reluctantly nodded.

Jed didn't look so sure. "I don't know…you never even thanked me for stalking your would-be girlfriend for you. And enduring those stickers."

"Thank you so much, Jed. It meant the world to me. I would kiss your feet if crawling under the table and doing so wouldn't look like something completely different and obscene."

"Okay I'll be there, just stop describing your fantasies to me, please!"

"It's hard to resist." Zane shrugged humorously, then proceeded to divvy out the rest of his French fries to his friends. He still had no appetite.


	3. Prologue Part III

Prologue, Part III

* * *

"What ho, good sirrah, thy chariot awaits!" Jed yelled out the passenger window of Kuro's car.

Zane and his father lived on the third floor of an apartment complex just a few miles from the school. A window on said floor was slid open just in time for Jed's "That means HURRY THE HELL UP!" to blast through.

"Jaden," called back an accented voice, "would you mind keeping it down?"

Kuro's silvery green eyes closed in mortification as he realized that the person on the receiving end of Jed's harassments was not Zane, but his father. The blonde man looked down at them through silver glasses, hoping they couldn't tell he was smiling.

"Sorry Mr. Ewer!" Jed yelled back at the professor, his repentant tone just as loud as his previous one.

"Will you be quiet?" hissed Kuro. "Should never have let you try my coffee," he murmured, snatching the drink out of Jed's hand.

Zane's father leaned farther out the window. "I'm sorry boys, but Zane already left for school. I suppose he didn't tell you?"

Apprehensively, Kuro and Jed exchanged a look. Did this early-bird syndrome have something to do with Zane's wacky Shakespeare plan? They hadn't even met to discuss the plan, but Zane always was one to jump the gun.

"THANKS MR. EWER! SORRY FOR BEING SO LOUD!"

Kuro practically slammed the pedal to the floor as yells and a rogue tomato began to escape several other floors of the apartment building. The car raced in the direction of the high school. "At this rate," Kuro bit out from behind the steering wheel, "you're going to have another restraining order filed against you."

Jed only grinned. "It's cool—sounds like Zane's about to catch up with my record."

Kuro scoffed. "That would be quite the feat. But you might want to keep an eye on him. I have a feeling he's going to try channeling Romeo this week."

"Forsooth and hot damn," Jed said, shaking his head.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Nope."

* * *

"Hey, Zane!"

The retreating blonde head paused mid-step, and slowly, Zane turned around. Jed jogged down the hallway after him.

"Where were you this morning?"

"Oh, sorry, I had to, um, get to school early to borrow something from someone," he explained lucidly, looking in every direction except at Jed. Subtly, he moved the duffle bag he'd been holding so that it was hidden behind his back.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, um…I'm late for English Lit class!" Zane announced at random, before darting around a corner and out of sight, duffle bag flailing behind him.

Seriously disturbed now, Jed pondered following Zane. If he was about to make a fool of himself…Jed wanted to be there to watch.

But before Jed could make up his mind to check in on his friend, he detected a flash of black hair from the corner of his eye. His gaze shifted to meet that of Rei Hino, who had been standing against her locker as she assembled her books for their math class. Her eyes, he realized, were a grayish purple. And really, really pretty.

Rei averted her gaze and quickly hurried into the classroom. Jed followed, Zane momentarily forgotten.

* * *

Makoto entered Mr. Yamagi's classroom and dropped her backpack to the floor beside her desk, which was next to Ami's. "Hey Ami-chan, I've got some _gossip_ for you," the tall brunette sang as she took her seat.

"You're starting to sound like Minako, Mako-chan," Ami pointed out.

"Oh, God, you're right. Quick, have my clothes started sprouting designer labels?" Makoto began patting herself down in a panic.

Serious-faced, Ami looked at Makoto's uniform. "Not quite there yet. What's up?"

Makoto hesitated before she could begin her retelling. Nobu had asked her not to tell Ami about Zane's crush yet, but could she maybe hint at what was to come?

"Um…I know something about a certain someone in this class," she said lamely.

Ami blinked. "Oh. That's…that's nice."

Makoto tugged on the end of her ponytail ruefully, wishing she didn't have so many scruples. "I swear there's more to it, but I just realized it's not my secret to tell quite yet. You'll see it all unfold, though, just wait."

"I'm sure I will." Mr. Yamagi called for silence just then, bidding the class to start thinking about their extra credit assignments, darkly alluding to the dire misfortunes that had befallen those students who had decided they had all the credit they needed. Quickly, he went through roll call, only to discover… "Mr. Ewer is not here?"

Makoto snapped her head in the direction of Zane's seat. Where in the world…?

Before she had time to consider the possible accidents Zane could have met with, the door of the classroom burst open. Everyone's eyes, including Mr. Yamagi's, swerved to alight on the newcomer.

There were a few blinks in the crowd, muffled laughs. A loud murmur began to spread through the classroom ("What is he wearing?"). Makoto's eyes bugged a little and wildly, she glanced over at Ami, who looked as if she didn't know what to think of Zane's appearance.

"Oh, my God," Makoto breathed to herself.

Maybe in past years the outfit had served Romeo or Hamlet well in a school play. But that was not the case as of now, in the 21st century high school classroom.

The costume Zane wore was made up of a doublet, of dark purple velvet, stitched with golden embroidery, a matching hat with a feather bobbing atop it, gloves and…

"Are those tights?" asked the girl sitting on the other side of Ami.

"No, it's a, um, a maillot," stammered the knowledgeable Ami.

Zane did not seem much deterred by the stares he was getting; he strode right up to Ami's desk. Mr. Yamagi just watched him, not even sure he wanted to step forward and demand an explanation before this little performance could begin.

And begin it did.

"O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!" Zane proclaimed, descending upon one knee and throwing his arm out dramatically to indicate Ami. The girl didn't know where to look. All she knew was that this boy whom she had hardly ever spoken to was dressed like he'd just popped out of a Shakespeare script and was making speeches at her, his other hand over his heart.

"It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!"

Makoto had been twitching her fingers nervously. _What the heck are you doing, Zane? This isn't the way to win Ami over!_

Before Zane's speech could continue, Mr. Yamagi cut him short, echoing Makoto's thoughts. "May I ask _what _you think you're doing Mr. Ewer?"

All of a sudden, Makoto began clapping. "Bravo, Zane!" She jumped out of her desk and patted a bemused Zane on the shoulder. "Well done!" The boy only stared for a moment, but Makoto ignored that; she turned to the expectant Mr. Yamagi. "This is our great idea for the extra credit assignment, sir!"

The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, Miss Kino?"

"Oh, I know the assignment is supposed to be a paper, but Zane and I wanted to show you a possible alternative. People could form groups or work solo and reenact a scene out of Shakespeare, maybe every week! Don't you like it?"

Mr. Yamagi did not answer immediately, since the whole class had begun assaulting him with "Pleeease"'s. He knew as well as Makoto that she had just made up the "assignment" to make sure that Zane didn't look completely ridiculous in front of the girl he was clearly fawning over: Ami Mizuno. To tell the truth, Mr. Yamagi wasn't at all angry—the whole thing was like an amusing farce for the teacher. Almost a Shakespearean comedy in the making.

"I'll think about it. Now everyone get into their seats. And Mr. Ewer…"

"Sir?"

"Nice outfit."

* * *

Before Zane could slip into the restroom to change out of the god-awful costume, a firm hand on his shoulder detained him. "One second," Makoto said.

"Can I at least change and return this to the theater department?" Zane pointedly gestured at his purple Romeo wardrobe.

"Oh, oh yeah, go ahead. Meet you by the old oak tree right after the last bell rings."

At the given time, Makoto was impatiently leaning against the tree in question, arms crossed against her chest. Her tall form wasn't difficult to pinpoint, especially with her high, dark ponytail swinging every time she looked around.

"What the hell," she demanded as soon as Zane had reached the tree, "was that?"

Before Zane could reply, she began a rant. "Look, I gave Nobu all this good, relevant information on Ami and then you decide to dress yourself up like a cupcake and frighten the poor girl?"

"I thought she liked Shakespeare," he muttered, studying his feet.

"She does but…but you can't take it so literally! Ami's a romantic at heart, but she'd more easily go for _subtle_ romance. Got it?"

"I think so." Zane blew out a sigh. He sank to sit against the tree, arms laying across his knees. "I don't know what's wrong with me or why I'm making such a mess of this. I'm usually quite the ladies' man, you know."

"Honey, with that accent, I believe it. But you're going to have to go about it a different way. If you like, I can help, since you clearly need a woman's touch. Though I'm starting to wonder if it's even a good idea to let you within a three-mile radius of Ami."

Zane rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment before grinning at the voluble brunette. "Thanks. I think I may have a better, less drastic idea."

"You did WHAT?" Kuro and Nobu demanded in unison. Jed's response was much more to the point. He simply fell to the floor laughing, legs kicking out in mirth.

"I can't believe I missed that!" he howled.

Makoto, who had been the one to relay the story of Zane's performance, avoided the blonde's glare. The truth hurt, but she was going to have to show Zane the error of his ways in order for them to formulate a working plan.

As per Zane's request the day before, the group of boys, now with the addition of Makoto, had gathered in the Ewer apartment. Zane's father was still at the University where he taught, leaving the place available for their scheming. The apartment was a well-kept space, but still messy enough to resemble a bachelor's abode. The place was full of wooden shelves and cabinets, overflowing with sweet-smelling books and texts.

Soda in hand, Nobu took the seat on a navy sofa that Jed had just vacated. He then slung an arm around his girlfriend. "Good thing you saved him."

"She didn't _save_ me!" piped up Zane indignantly. "Honestly, you guys are so _dramatic_!"

Here, there was silence. Zane could have sworn he heard some crickets chirp.

A dark expression flashing across his face, the blonde said, "Okay, fine, I get it…but I have a new plan!"

Still hiccupping a little with laughter, Jed finally rose off the carpeted floor. "What are you going to do now? Throw her a ball?"

A slight red hue came into Zane's complexion. "Not exactly."

Kuro bent over and fished Zane's deep red Shakespeare anthology out of his book bag without so much as a by-your-leave. He turned it to a page in _Romeo and Julietwhich _ Zane had dog-eared.

"I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking…" he murmured. His eyes fell to the highlighted scene. "The scene where Romeo first meets Juliet, right?"

"At the masquerade?" Makoto asked.

"At a party!" Jed corrected happily. "Sweet, we haven't thrown a party in forever. Good idea, Zane."

Zane met Kuro's skeptical look with a smiling shrug. "There's something about a masquerade that really sets the scene for romance. The costumes, the mystery, the music, dancing…"

"Dude, no one throws 'masquerades' anymore. Heck, when was the last time you heard someone _say_ 'masquerade' before?" posed Jed.

"It's where Romeo and Juliet fall in love. I think it's pretty necessary," Zane said, a little stubbornly.

"I am not throwing a ball in my dorm room," Nobu maintained.

"Um, I think I have a solution," voiced Makoto. The chatter continued on, heedless of her comment. "HEY—listen up!" her strong voice commanded.

Cowed, the men in the room all directed their attention at her. "Ahem, thank you. I think I know someone who can throw this party, and with pleasure. She's also a bit of a matchmaker. Do you guys know Aino Minako?"


	4. Twelfth Night, Act I

Twelfth Night, Act 1: In Which the Duke Plays his Viola

* * *

_ In the words of the Shakespearean hero, Duke Orsino: "If music be the food of love, play on!" _

* * *

Zane scarfed down a minimal amount of lunch and arrived in English class early for once, some sage advice from Makoto at the back of his mind.

"_Make sure you haven't screwed up already!" _

Indeed, yesterday's performance had amounted to an explosive first impression. With Makoto's help, Zane had come to an ingenious conclusion: it could _seriously_ set his romantic plans back if his love interest thought he was insane.

"Left your sword and tights at home, Romeo?" mockedone of his classmates as Zane entered. Zane gritted his teeth and menacingly clenched his hands into fists, looking ready to do more than—as Shakespeare would say—bite his thumb at the unfortunate Jun. The annoyed blonde began to make a biting retort from the doorway when he felt someone bump into him from behind. There was a quiet 'thump' as a book hit the floor. "Oops, sorry," apologized a soft, silver voice.

_Play it cool_, Zane commanded himself. Calmly, he bent to pick up Ami's copy of _Romeo and Juliet_. She thanked him with a smile and together, they walked over to their seats.

As he watched her situate herself at her desk, Zane admired the swing of Ami's black hair, with its blue tinge. She turned to him hesitantly and he met her blue gaze. As he watched in fascination the ways the light played over her dark lashes and soft, pale cheek, he was reminded of the lines from a Lord Byron poem. "_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow…"_

"Zane?"

"Wha-?" he sputtered eloquently.

"I was just asking if you'd, um, started your paper for next week…" Ami said uncertainly.

By the way she was now blushing, he realized he'd been staring (*_AGAIN*, YOU STUPID SON OF A VILLAGE IDIOT_), and for too long. He himself had to fight the color from his cheeks. There had to be a solution to this sudden moronic behavior, and hopefully that solution was forthcoming—what with this masquerade of Minako's.

"Oh, yeah, I did. It's on Shakespeare's concepts of love—" Mentally, he grinned at the irony "—at least, the concepts from the few plays we've read and some that I've read."

"You've read his other plays?"

_Score_, Zane thought when he heard the interest peak in her voice. In this area, at least, he was at his leisure. "Yeah. My dad's an English professor," he explained. "And I've done some acting, too, as my, um, performance yesterday demonstrated."

He could tell she was trying to hide a smile at this reference. He held his breath for what her response would be. "It was very good."

"Thanks," Zane coughed. Speculatively, he glanced at her again. By "Very good" did she in fact mean to say, "You need to be committed for the rest of your days, you raving lunatic?" He didn't _think_ so.

Bolstered by this conclusion, Zane opened his mouth. Without realizing it, he found himself asking: "Hey, if Mr. Yamagi approves that play assignment, would you want to work together?"

Crap, what was he doing? He was supposed to be sticking to his plans!

For probably the first time in his charmed, semi-womanizing life, Zane had to stop himself from biting his nails and hoping against hope that the girl's reply wouldn't be a straight out "no."

He added, "I mean, you probably don't need extra credit…"

"Oh no, I actually do need the credit," Ami assured him.

For a moment, Zane was flabbergasted. "…you do?" he asked skeptically of the known girl genius.

Ami nodded in embarrassment. "You see I..." She then proceeded to murmur something, so softly that he couldn't hear her.

"What was that?" He bent his ear closer, and quietly, she confided to him what her grade on the last progress report had been.

"I really need to bring it up," she concluded solemnly.

Zane couldn't help it—he guffawed.

"What?" She sounded affronted.

Realizing that Ami had been perfectly serious, Zane decided not to push the matter. "N-nothing. How about we meet this weekend then, huh?"

Ami began nodding, but paused, a hesitant look crossing her face. "Could my friend Makoto join us? She mentioned yesterday that you two were working together anyway, right?"

Zane grinned. "Yup. We've already begun…planning."

His peripheral vision allowed him a view of the curious glance she shot him.

Zane had panicked to think he was deviating from his Shakespearean romance when he invited Ami to practice the play scene. But upon hearing about it, Makoto just hit him with a roll of paper as they walked out the school doors.

"You dolt! The play-within-the-play is so Shakespeare! Just channel some_ As You Like It_."

Zane lit up at the realization. "Yeah, you're right; that sounds good. By the way—Ami, very thoughtfully, asked that you join us when we practice tomorrow. Could _you_, equally thoughtfully—"

"Buzz off?" Makoto finished, a droll expression of fake hurt on her face.

Zane answered with a sheepish grin. "It's kind of rude to ask, I know, but I'd love you forever if you did."

Makoto internally shook her head at Zane. For the second time that week, he had to listen to someone urge him to "save the loving" for Ami. He sighed before making his way to Kuro's car. "I plan to."

The next day, Zane literally ran into Ami by their lockers.

An "oomph!" escaped them before they toppled over in a mess of rustling books and papers.

"Sorry, sorry," Ami apologized repeatedly, smoothing her simple blue skirt as she did so. Not that Zane was looking at her admittedly creamy, athletic legs or anything. She gathered up her things, again helped by Zane and met his eye with a shy smile. "I keep doing that."

"I don't mind," he let slip out without thinking; then could have bit his tongue. The last thing he needed was to stray from the plan of "slow and steady" leading up to the masquerade and practically announce that he was infatuated with her.

Ami's mouth began to open in protest and Zane hastened to add on, "A-as long as you don't gravely injure me or anything when you do it. And keep those thick books away from the moneymakers, if you please," he said, comically twitching his fingers away from her.

"Moneymakers?"

Zane laughed and, not bothering to keep the pride out of his voice said: "I play violin in the orchestra."

Ami's interest was clearly piqued, eyes running with scientific appreciation over Zane's slender fingers. "Really?"

He nodded emphatically then leant forward. "Mmhmm; want to hear?" he asked in a deceptively casual tone.

"Well that would be lovely, but I kind of have class right now," she reminded him. "As I believe you do, too." Even though it wasn't big and bright, her smile came easily, he noted.

"Class, schmass," Zane said dismissively, but upon seeing a more stern look appear on her face, cracked a smile. "After school then?" he suggested. "The music room?" Ami was taken aback. She didn't know how to reply to this boy she barely knew, who was all of a sudden asking her to listen to him play music? She ultimately settled for a tentative nod. She then ducked her head adorably and made a bee-line for her economics class.

When four o'clock struck, Zane made a dash for the music room, which held some of the practice instruments orchestra players and music students used throughout the year. Nerves on edge, he drummed his fingers across the black surface of the piano's cover, wondering if Ami had decided not to come after all. Oh god, she hated him. Thought he was a freak. Was probably transferring schools as he sat there, and getting a restraining order against him, and would later write about him in her memoirs under the chapter titled _The Loon_ and and...

"Hi."

She stood in the doorway, eyes uncertain. Mentally swiping a hand across his forehead, Zane invited her in and bade her sit on the piano stool.

"Do _you_ play an instrument?" he asked her.

"Not exactly. I can play a little piano."

"I'm sure you're being modest."

She shook her head ruefully. "Not really. My dad started to teach me but..." The way she bit her lip abruptly and her rush to turn the conversation didn't escape him, but he tactfully pretended he hadn't heard her. "Anyway, I'm trying to teach myself now, and it's coming along, kind of." Ami shrugged, wishing she could stop talking about herself, though she couldn't deny that this Zane, with his expressive green eyes and beckoning smile, _was_ a nice listener.

"I'm not great at piano, but I'd be happy to help you out some time," Zane offered in as neutral a voice as possible.

"Th-thanks," said the girl, taken aback by this treatment. She didn't know the guy, yet he acted as if they were on the friendliest terms. Not, if she was honest, that she really was minding...

"So," Zane interrupted her thoughts, opening a violin case as he spoke, "what song would you like to hear?"

Where Zane's fingers had nervously clicked minutes earlier, her hands now rested lightly atop of the piano's cover. "But anyway, we're here so I can hear your stellar playing, no?"

Zane protested at this teasing question, and was momentarily caught off-guard by the twinkle in Ami's eye. "Well?" she said.

"Your wish is my command."

He took up the bow and violin and set the instrument beneath his chin. Lovingly, he drew a preparatory note from the violin. "Any requests?"

"What pieces do _you_ like?" Ami posed in her quiet voice, more easily heard in this insulated room.

He hmmed for a moment. "I've got one."

With a tiny bit of a flourish, Zane began to coax strains of music from the violin as he drew the bow along it, to and fro. The piece that began to stream out held a mystery to it, not lilting, but deep and soulful and, truth be told, seductive to Ami's ears. She soon picked it out as _The Chairman's Waltz_ from _Memoirs of a Geisha_. It wasn't just the smooth notes that pulled her in, though. Zane's fingers really were as dexterous as they appeared, those of his left hand dancing along the violin's fingerboard while the other hand continued its sure movements with the bough along the strings. His look of intense concentration seemed at odds with his (she had to admit it) careless good looks and slightly messy blonde hair, but at the same time...it worked. Ami gaze remained fixed on his profile even after the final diminuendo.

After he looked up, the blonde's lips quirked as he realized that this time _she_ was the one not-so-politely staring at him, with wide, entrancingly blue eyes. He gave a cough and she jumped.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I...well it was. That was quite beautiful. Thank you." She bowed her head.

A flush still in her face, Ami clumsily scooped her things up and whooshed out of the room, leaving a doubtful Zane in her wake.

That had been weird. Could it be? the boy thought to himself. Was Ami flustered too? Not as awkward as his pathetic self, sure, but..._maybe_ not as unattainable as he'd thought? She certainly seemed to have liked it.

Score for Shakespeare and Duke Orsino.

* * *

Kuro wasn't quite sure _what_ role he'd expected to play in the whole of Zane's little charade. Confidante? Spy? Maybe something macho, like bodyguard, which would have been super cool and a good use of the hours expended at the gym. After all, he thought loftily, high school kids could be so rowdy nowadays.

But whatever part Kuro had anticipated playing, of one thing he was sure: babysitter and chaperone had not been high on the list.

"Ooh, what do you think of this one?" asked the teenage girl as she held out a bolt of fabric. It was, in every way, identical to the one she'd shown him before.

Kuro had been assigned the task of shopping for decorations with Minako for their upcoming masquerade, which, in spite of the others' protests, was to be held no sooner than Valentine's Day.

"Minako, that's almost two weeks away! I don't think Zane's patient enough for that."

Unfazed, the blonde girl had replied: "Mako-chan, we can't invite people to a party three days before it happens. There would only be like ten guests if we did that! When I throw a party, I throw it right," Minako had said in a dead-serious tone. "The wait will just build up the anticipation and tension for Zane and Ami. Besides, he needs to actually talk to the girl!"

At Minako's emphatic request, Kuro had driven his bubbly new acquaintance to a fabric store, though only heaven knew why this was the first venue on her list.

All he really knew was that he was developing a twitch in his right eye, and the blonde's energy was not helping any. The whole car ride, he'd been bombarded with questions about his job ("Eye_-banker? That's exciting! So do you do like organ transplants?"_), his family, his nonexistent pets, his favorite color, etc. And then, though he himself hadn't asked upwards of two questions, he'd found himself being subjected to the infinitesimal details of Minako's life as well.

"I honestly don't know how that fabric's different than the other one," Kuro replied finally.

"That one was _teal_ and this is _turquoise_," Minako explained, albeit not too patiently.

"Well, I have the utmost faith in your color choice."

Either she was choosin_g_ to ignore the sarcasm, or she really was oblivious, because she just beamed, heart-shaped face lighting up. Kuro found himself momentarily startled by how pretty her smile was. He quickly brushed that thought aside.

"It's, uh, nice of you to host this party," he then attempted, trying to be polite. Her blonde head and crimson bow bobbed from behind a display of rose pink silk.

"Are you kidding? I've been DYING to hold something like this for forever! And on Valentine's Day weekend too! I think it could be the perfect setting for romance—don't you?" Her sky blue eyes peeped out over the mannequin with more keenness in them than he'd seen before.

Kuro didn't know how to respond. He instead looked at his watch. Unfazed, Minako fairly skipped around the store, brocaded fabric trailing behind her like a train.

"Do you think we could hurry this up?" the man asked. "I have somewhere I need to be soon."

Minako smiled as if blissfully unaware, but her fingers were suddenly clenching around the fabric in her hands. The blonde prided herself on the fact that she got along with everybody. Teachers, dogs, crabby old men, you name it. But gorgeous though he was, this Kuro guy was not rubbing her the right way. "Do you now?" she asked sweetly. Kuro's conscience twinged. "Don't worry—I'm done."

The blonde hummed a little as she paid and brightly bade him follow her and not to dilly-dally, for fairness' sake!

Oh yeah, Kuro thought—after this, he was definitely going to need to see a doctor about his eye twitch.

* * *

"Victory. Yes! I am so good."

Nobu had to do a remarkably acrobatic bend to escape being hit by Zane's triumphant fist pump.

"Please don't dance, you look even more of a fool when you dance," the older man begged. Jed, who had pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open to record Zane differed on this point. "Oh, no, please _do_ dance. You do a mean "monkey." More quietly murmuring: "This'll be awesome blackmail material."

Zane only stuck a dignified tongue out at the phone camera and, though it appeared difficult for him, complied with Nobu's request. He leaned back precariously in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face now. "It was great. Shakespeare is helping me reel Ami right in."

"Progress, huh? Did ya kiss her?" Jed demanded.

"Well...no."

"Ask her out?"

"N-no."

"Get to third base?"

"Jed! I just said I didn't kiss her!"

The disgust in Jed's expression was palpable. "Man, you are _so_ not a playboy anymore if you suddenly think you need one for the other."

Nobu choked on the coffee he'd been drinking. "And I thought frat boys were bad. Jed, you need to learn how to be a gentleman. Maybe then you'll actually have a girlfriend," Nobu suggested with some superiority, as if to say "That's right, I'm the only guy in our group with a girl, suckas."

"Whatevs."

Zane had pulled his Shakespeare anthology out of his book bag and was thumbing through it reverently. "Really though," he continued, blatantly ignoring Nobu and Jed's banter, "this book is a guide to romance."

"Looks more like a guide to man tights and social suicide."

The green-eyed blonde flipped through the red tome, eyes skimming _Twelfth Night_. What did Duke Orsino prescribe now?

He arrived at a section and frowned thoughtfully. He wondered...

"Dude"—punctuated by a pillow being thrown at his head—"you didn't even tell us what you did."

"I played her a song on the violin, okay?"

"Lame."

"Your mom is lame."

"Your comebacks are lame."

"Your face is lame."

"Your comebacks are _really_ lame."

"WILL YOU SHUT UP."

"...man, Nobu, stop being so lame."

* * *

Please review!


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